Divergence
by Innocent Fox
Summary: Corvo finds himself drawn to Lady Boyle after becoming disillusioned with Havelock's methods of restoring the Empire. The former Lord Protector soon finds himself becoming obsessed with taking the Empire for himself. HighChaos!Corvo/Esma Boyle
1. Boiled

**Divergence**

**-1-**

**Boiled**

Corvo Attano, the former Lord Protector to Jessamine Kaldwin and her daughter, Emily, rode down the canal with Samuel Beechworth on the _Amaranth_, Beechworth's boat. They were surrounded by the huge stone walls that reached up from the musty moat waters, up to the Estate District and beyond. They served as a deterrent to potential 'undesirables' attempting to swim through and kept many City Watch guards with a hefty pouch. If anybody managed to avoid the hagfish that resided in the water, they would come across the second obstacle – a towering gate that closed off the moat to boats, swimmers and, (crucially) dead plague victims. Samuel had been down the canals many times before, if only to drop off parcels and pick them up. The former sailor tread the river carefully, his passenger soon becoming impatient.

"Can we not hurry this up, old man? I have a job to do," spat Corvo.

Samuel refused to make eye contact when he replied, "We could hurry it up, sure. That is, if you would like City Watch to catch or potentially kill us. It's your choice Corvo." Samuel continued at the same pace down the river, ignoring Corvo's demands.

"You're a clever bastard, aren't you?" Corvo declared sarcastically, before suddenly hearing himself and continued, "Look, Samuel, I'm sorry. I haven't felt like myself in...a long time."

Samuel glanced up at his passenger this time, "Apology accepted, Corvo. I understand that times are hard. This war can push on tonight."

Corvo found it hard to believe that Samuel could understand what he felt like. Losing the Empress, _his _Empress, was the most difficult event of his life. He had lost a friend, a partner, a lover and the mother of his child in under a minute. Whomever the assassin that murdered her was, the man would pay dearly, Corvo was more than sure of that. During his journey from Coldridge Prison, Corvo had not stayed the path of a Lord Protector as much as he had liked. He had slain many a man just to get to his assigned target's; family men and innocents doing their jobs, just for a corrupted government.

His first assigned target, the High Overseer, Thaddeus Campbell had been given a fate worse than death. He had been Branded and cast aside by his peers. Wherever he ended up, it would either lead to death or plague. Corvo had never hated him before he had been thrown in prison and considered just killing him out of mercy. That changed when he saw the Overseer's secret room. The debauchery and the smell of sex and cheap perfume had bound itself to that room like the plague had done to many a victim. Corvo had suddenly seen what had become of his precious Jessamine's city, and he despised it instantly. In his head, the former bodyguard had thought of many ways to kill Campbell; stabbing from above, swapping the poisoned drink of Captain Geoff Curnow with the Overseer's, waiting for him in his room, or simply running in and surprising them all. Corvo had run these options and more through his head many-a-time, but after overhearing two of his guards talk about banishment, he opted for that instead. After choking him in front of a surprised Captain Curnow, Corvo revealed that he would have been poisoned. Thankful, the Captain left in peace, which led to the unconscious Campbell being strapped to a chair and given the Heretic's Brand, a mark that, in the Abbey of the Everyman, would exile him from society. Corvo felt that it had been a fitting end to a reign filled with sin.

"Almost there now," Samuel announced.

A steel bridge came into view and Samuel inwardly congratulated himself for remembering the times the gate was open for maintenance. Corvo could see jet black silhouettes of people running over the bridge, only for them to be met with fiery arrows from a tallboy. Corvo had heard many a tale of their destructive use, but this was the first time he had seen one. He watched as the bodies flew up in the air, most of them landing in the canal, their grave. The tallboy moved backwards, its pilot soon making the structure disappear behind highly priced apartments.

"Good grief. The Lord Regent's pulling out all the stops for the Boyle Family," Samuel began, "I didn't think there'd be tallboys patrolling here tonight. Watch yourself, Corvo, they don't fool around." The masked man took the words to heart, he wasn't going to be killed by men on stilts, not tonight. Samuel began to pull up the boat, "The good news is, that mask of yours will let you blend right in. Enjoy your evening out with the folk of quality. Better you than me." Corvo stood up and raised his left hand to his right, he blinked up on to the ledge and crouched down. Looking down at Samuel, he could see that the boatman had lit up a cigarette and was keeping quiet.

A tallboy stomped through the street towards him, the pilot scanned the area with his crossbow and adjusted his shield plates. A foot soldier cupped a hand around the side of his mouth and shouted up to the tallboy pilot, "Were they weepers?" asked the foot soldier.

"Mostly, I think. There might have been a couple of homeless running past them," the stilted man shouted back.

Corvo waited for the grounded guard to walk towards an alcove and the tallboy to turn before blinking into the ditch across the paved street. He crawled along it, carefully as not to be spotted. When he reached the end, a few wooden panels blocked a space under the entrance to the manor. Corvo tore pulled at them and managed to release a few before anybody could hear him. His mask would be useful here past this point, if a little controversial. He had seen the posters around the city, calling for his capture or death for the reward of '10,000 COINS' with a detailed sketch of the mask.

He thought it was pitiful; the only reason he had been seen was because he had left a prostitute alive when he raided the Golden Cat Bathhouse. Corvo hadn't seen her or heard her behind the screen as he grabbed Custis Pendleton's neck. As he held him, he remembered that it was this particular Pendleton twin that made an inappropriate remark to the Empress at a state dinner. The remark he made crept up on Corvo from time to time as it baffled him as to why a man would make such a lewd request to the most powerful woman in the world. Corvo had stood over the Empress as she ate and had spotted the approaching, drunken Pendleton twin walk up to her and whisper in her ear, "Would you mind if I fucked you whilst you screamed?" Corvo immediately grabbed the twin by the scruff of his expensive collar and dragged him out shouting and screaming. At the time, Corvo had no idea who the man was, only that he was called 'a whore's son', 'Serkonan bastard' and 'a nobody'. The funny thing was that the last remark hurt him the most.

As the Pendleton tried to scratch at his mask, Corvo considered removing it to show him who had killed him. Tilting his head, he simply said to him, "Your brother died squealing in the steam room." The look on Custis' face when he said that was all the more priceless when Corvo's sword was jammed through his pencil neck. Suddenly spotting the brother's 'attendant' made it all the more difficult as she screamed in vain, the soundproof room blocking out her cries. The masked assailant walked over to her and put a finger to his mouth telling her to be quiet. She simpered and begged him not to kill her. To Corvo, this was new. He hadn't been seen whilst in Holger Square, but now he had to contemplate killing an innocent to protect himself. In hindsight, he felt foolish letting her live, as she had told the guards once she was sure he had disappeared, describing the eccentricities of his mask and his cloak to the horrified men sent to protect the two. At least he had rescued Emily.

He stood and brushed himself off, his invite neatly folded in his cloak pocket. A slight hill led up to the front gates, he passed an elderly gentleman who seemed to be talking to himself and spotted a car that had been parked alongside three people. As he approached them, he made sure to be discreet, noticing two generic looking party masks belonging to the sole man and the first woman, the third person had a disturbing mask, arguably more disturbing than Corvo's own. It seemed she had used a dolls head used to cover her face and the limbs were used as decoration above a white, silken shawl. She looked like a nurse from The Void. Whilst Corvo tried not to stare, this particular woman stared at him and beckoned him over.

"You there, with the skull mask! Come, please, join us!" she seemed to bellow across the entire district. Corvo nervously stepped over to the trio and nodded his head to them. "Have you ever been to a Boyle Party before?" the doll woman asked.

"No-Yes..." Corvo spluttered.

"Well make up your mind dear! We are all friends here," doll woman replied politely.

"Ahem," began Corvo again, "I meant to say that it's been a while since I attended one. Not since the late Lord Boyle passed a few years back."

Doll woman rubbed the bottom of her mask and adjusted the legs that popped out of the back of it, "Ah, I see. Very tragic the Lord Boyle dying, he was a kind man. Absolutely devoted to Waverley, despite the age gap. Plus, not to mention the wealth he had, oh!"

Corvo grinned under his mask, they believed him, "I don't believe we've met before. I would have surely remembered such a charming lady as yourself."

"Mattie, m'dear. And you are?" She held out her hand.

"Just a man," Corvo grabbed her hand and bowed slightly, unable to kiss it.

"Ooh, how naughty of you! These are my friends, Elisa and Jameson."

Corvo turned to shake Jameson and Elisa's hands, "A pleasure," stated a clearly bored Jameson. "Good evening, I like your mask," claimed Elisa.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the entrance, wrestling Mattie's invitation from her grasp. Corvo excused himself as the doll woman ran after the invite, against the persuasion to do otherwise. He stepped up to a railed window and saw a middle aged guard taking invites.

"Invitation please, sir," he repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that night. Corvo handed over his invite. "Ah, Mr Bunting. That man behind you attempted to get in under your name." Corvo turned to see the hysterical seeming man by the gate was the art dealer he had stolen from the day of the Golden Cat incident. "I'll open the doors for you, sir."

With that, Corvo walked under an archway and stepped through an alcove up into the gardens, he had made it in with killing a soul, much to his relief and slight disappointment. These were the types of people that angered him the most. All coin, no soul. Golden ribbons adorned the place and huge lanterns hung above the guards and guests like reminders of their insignificance. Fireflies floated effortlessly around, adding to the visual spectacle almost as magnificently as the fireworks that seemed never-ending. Corvo walked upstairs towards the huge double doors and watched as a guard opened them for him. Stepping through, he was almost blinded by the rush of light from the lobby. Whale sculptures exploded with ribbons and glitter periodically, various rooms bombarded Corvo left and right, the guests gossiping and flirting amongst themselves. The most prominent feature to Corvo was definitely the Wall of Light that stood between himself, the guests and rats from peering upstairs.

"...a gift from the Lord Regent," he heard somebody say. Which meant it was probably the same as the other ones he had turned off, or turned against them. The guest book sat on a table next to him, Corvo contemplated signing it, just to get under the Lord Regent's skin, but decided against it. To his right, a library with presumably thousands of books. A few scattered groups of people stood around and talked absent-mindedly. To his left, there were two entrances, the first led to the lounge and the second led to a hallway. Corvo steadily paced into the lounge and spotted a woman in dressed head to toe in black. She wore a hand crafted porcelain mask that bore a blank face. A wisp of blonde hair had crept from the back, but she seemed immaculately groomed otherwise. Corvo walked up to her, feeling himself take deeper breaths than usual. The woman, from what he had heard moving towards her, was one of the Boyle sisters, and they all wore the same costume albeit in different shades.

Stepping closer, the woman turned and seemed to look Corvo dead in the eye, despite the mask and said, "Welcome to my party...I don't believe you've had the pleasure."

Before Corvo could reply, the Boyle sister chatted with another party guest, ignoring Corvo completely. Determined, he tried to speak to her again. "May I speak with you?" he asked.

She seemed to look him dead on again, "As you obviously cannot see, I am already speaking with somebody. Don't bother me again or I'll have the guards throw you out. Is that clear?"

Corvo wanted to show her he wasn't to be toyed with, he wanted to bother her until she called the guards and make her watch as he decapitated and gutted them. Instead, he moved away from her, and went down the hallway he had neglected before. On the right was a room covered with hunting trophies (which had many more guests than the library) and down the marbled floor nearby was the music room. It contained a grand piano and another Boyle sister. A maid had positioned herself nearby, she held a tray of drinks in her outstretched arms and looked uncomfortable. To maintain character, Corvo walked past her and straight to the Boyle sister dressed in a cream costume.

"Miss Boyle," he greeted, bowing to her.

She didn't say a word at first, looking at his cloak and mask, "What a deliciously simple mask..." she mused. "Have you been roaming the bushes?"

Corvo wasn't sure what to say, "Come again, m'lady?"

"You smell like that dirty, musky outdoors smell."

"I...see."

She smiled under the white face, "No harm meant by it, I simply wondered what you had been doing was all."

"I walked rather than take a coach. I wanted to take in the fireworks," he lied.

"What a beautiful idea, tell me, are you a poet or a scholar? Somebody of the arts?" she questioned.

"I follow certain arts, but I am yet to become a master."

"Musician?"

Corvo stood closer to her, "I played violin in my youth. I stopped when I inherited my fortune though. I was too busy."

"How gorgeous. My...other half is not one for playing, but he enjoys the sounds of the piano." Corvo's ear pricked up at 'other half'. "I play for him when I visit, but it's not worth the hassle sometimes."

"He sounds interesting. Would I have heard of him?" Corvo pried.

She became flustered but tried to hide it, "You most certainly will have, yet I'd prefer to keep him a secret for now." Corvo knew that she meant the Lord Regent but he had to be sure.

"Excuse me, m'lady."

He walked down the hall to the dining room, a huge table met his sight, a whale sculpture released the glitter and ribbons as he stepped in. Bunches of flowers scattered the table amongst the food. A shark lay cooked on the table, alongside various birds and vegetables. Corvo could smell Serkonan sausages and their spices. It smelt wonderful. He couldn't see the third sister, apparently she was in red. Searching the bottom floor again, he doubled back into the trophy room and spotted a man wearing a scarecrow mask. It encapsulated his entire head. Corvo was curious, so brushed past him, surprised when a sudden hand grabbed his wrist. Corvo wanted to pull out his blade, but the man started to speak.

"I know your mission tonight...we must speak privately."

"Who are you?" Corvo asked.

"I'm a friend of Pendleton's an-"

"And what?" Corvo interupted.

"...I've helped your cause," he continued. "How to put this...the person you are here to kill is the woman I love. I swear that if you bring her to me, _unharmed_, you will never hear from her again."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," he said, lowering his tone, "There's a cellar under the kitchen, bring her there. I'm not proud of this...but it's better than seeing her killed."

"Which one are you with?"

"Her name is Lydia. Bring her to the cellar and I will keep her safe with me."

"Which dress?" Corvo demanded, their whispering drawing more than a few looks.

"White dress."

"What about the others?"

"Esma is in red, Waverley is in black."

"I'll do what I can," Corvo promised.

"Thank you."

Corvo stepped swiftly out of the room and made his way back to the music room. Guards took note of his speed but thought nothing more of it. For all they knew, he was just a guest. On his way, he spotted who the final sister in a crimson dress. They walked past each other and their heads turned to meet. She stopped Corvo just before he opened the music room door.

"My, my. You're quite...mysterious in that mask. Tell me, what's your name?" she asked, her voice was seductive and appealing.

"I'm nobody," Corvo replied.

"Now now, we're the ones playing the guessing game. One of the Pendleton's? Lord Brisby? Or someone entirely different?"

"Different."

She jutted her hips and rested her hands on them, "That is interesting. Can I tell you something?"

"What would that be?"

"I like a mysterious man."

Corvo was intrigued. Esma was supposed to be the one dressed in red and if the stories were true, she was quite the devilish one of the trio.

"How about a trip upstairs?" she continued, "I can show you some rare paintings, if you're interested in that sort of thing...or I can show you my bedroom. I have some lovely heirlooms in there."

"I.." he started, glancing at the door behind him, "I suppose I would rather have a look upstairs."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Esma, right?"

She stepped back on her left foot, "Well done. For that, I'll have to give you something _extra _special indeed." Esma Boyle grabbed Corvo's hand and led him through the dining room. To her, he was a tall, mystical stranger and she had set her sights on bedding him. To him, he was taking a risk. He thought about knocking her unconscious yet she was just as mysterious and admittedly exciting to him as he was to her. She let go of his hand as they entered the dining room, the two of them drew some attention, many of them simply thinking of Corvo as another notch on the Ladyship's bedpost. Esma continued upstairs, the sparse hall contained a guard and stairs upward and stairs down to the kitchen. Esma whispered something to the tall, rugged captain and he swerved a gloved hand to his left, letting Corvo go with her. She stayed silent, giggling to herself as Corvo wondered what he might have gotten himself into, only for the woman in crimson to open the door to her lavish bedroom. It was decorated in golds and reds, the bed was large and (if the gossip was true) well used. She stood and ran an index finger across the chest that sat below the bed and then grabbed Corvo by the scruff of his jacket, pulling him towards her.

"What do we do now...?" she asked in faux naïvety. She smelt like peaches.

Corvo didn't know what to say, he could easily kill her. One lunge of his blade would end her there, but he knew he wasn't there for her, he was here for her sister.

"I think...I think I should wash my face first," he replied, her head bowed in impatience.

"Oh. All right then. Do hurry, I don't wait for any man."

Corvo read the message loud and clear. He shuffled to the bathroom, he could hear her unbuttoning her blouse and nerves came over him. In her personal bathroom, Corvo took off his mask and pulled down his hood, he turned on the golden tap and washed away sweat and grime. He couldn't help but think that this was his best chance to get to Lydia. He could wait until the party died down and let them go to sleep, then kill her. He soaped his hands up and then thought of the consequences; Esma would probably piece together that the mysterious stranger allowed upstairs had killed her sister in the night. He could leave Esma where she was and make an excuse, or he could just take her to Lord Brisby. Despite his mind racing with ideas, he did find Esma oddly alluring. Attano stepped out of the bathroom with his mask back on and he saw Esma sat at the edge of the bed in nothing but her mask, underwear and her blouse.

"I do hope that you're a gentleman with me...unless I ask for it hard," she asked, sidling up behind him, removing his long coat for him. Corvo felt a lump in his throat as he felt her breath on the back of his neck, his dark hair now touching his shoulders.

"I don't think we should do this..." he told a nonplussed Esma. She pulled his shirt up and over his head, the mask not moving off his face.

"Nonsense, if you have a wife, you have no fear of her knowing, I like to keep my encounters to myself," her hands roamed his upper body and tugged on his belt. He found himself thinking of the Empress and became aroused, he scolded himself for it, but the urge to find comfort was building. "You can't tell yourself you don't want me?" Esma teased, her hand stroking up his thigh and waist until she pushed him forward on to the bed.

Corvo turned himself over, his mask had slipped off slightly and as he adjusted it, the woman formerly in all crimson jumped between his legs. "How about a taste?" Esma slipped off his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down as she did. Corvo found himself being caught in the moment as she reached her hand into his trousers and stroked him.

_I'm supposed to be killing her sister, _the voice at the back of his head told him, whilst she took off her mask and placed him between her pink lips. He moved up on his elbows and witnessed the Boyle sister moving her head up and down, her blonde hair tickled his groin as she moved, Corvo caught a glimpse of her green eyes and small nose. She was gorgeous.

"I enjoyed that," she said as she took her blouse off and her corset, her ample breasts greeted Corvo's eyes and she grabbed his waist, moving her right hand slowly down his thighs as she felt herself get more excited. She moved her left hand to her underwear and felt through the fabric, letting out a gasp as she traced a circle with her fingers. That is when Corvo stopped her, Esma was bemused at the sudden change in the situation.

"Look, Esma..." he started, before she put her hand to his lower lip. He looked up at her, her porcelain skin shimmering under the soft light. He wanted to halt her train of thought, distract her long enough to leave her in bed. Something told the Lord Protector he wouldn't be killing her sister until she had got what she desired.

* * *

Samuel sat in his boat and stared at the now closed moat, having no idea whether Corvo had managed to finish his job in time to escape. The boatman remembered Admiral Havelock's orders for this sort of occasion – get back to the Hound Pits Pub and wait for any confirmation of success or death. Beechworth left the canal – and Corvo – to return to safety.


	2. Doubt

**-2-**

**Doubt**

Corvo opened his eyes, he had been pretending to sleep as he lay next to the now lightly snoring aristocrat next to him. The ceiling above him was higher than his house growing up in Serkonos, a fact that made him remember his childhood. He had been relatively happy as a boy, his mother raised him on her own after his father died. His father was a sailor and at eight years old it was exciting to the young Corvo. When a training drill went wrong, his father fell into the ocean and drowned, the only remnant of him a cameo passed from generation to generation. When the other children asked how he died, Corvo always lied and told them he had died bravely, fighting enemies of Serkonos. Corvo still wanted to believe that, even in his thirties. He had left his mother to take the job as Royal Protector after the former Emperor, Jessamine's father, had spotted him brawling outside a pub in his native town. The Emperor, though a kind and stately man, insisted Corvo train harder everyday to ensure he was up to the task of imperial duties. Emperor Euhorn was a disciplined and reliable man, his reign providing peace and wealth to the majority. It was also during his training that Corvo had first laid eyes on the Emperor's heir, Jessamine. She was svelt, her shining, jet black hair hung loose just past her shoulders and she had a beauty mark on her upper lip, _'A mark she didn't need_,_' _Corvo always thought, she was already lovely.

After the Emperor died of a sudden heart-attack seven months later, the now newly appointed Empress didn't hear the news until hours after, for she had been in the arms of Corvo in his training room. The two of them were only nineteen years old, a couple of teenagers rolling around in the proverbial hay, their love making having provided a long enough distraction for the heir as stewards and guards walked the grounds searching for her. They laughed to themselves, Corvo already feeling much in love with the young woman, but her feelings for him weren't always worn on her sleeve. It frustrated him. As she sat on top of him, riding him on the wooden floor, a sheer white sheet wrapped around them, the Royal Spymaster's apprentice – and soon to be successor – Hiram Burrows walked in on them, having exhausted all other buildings. Jessamine covered herself swiftly as Burrows bluntly said to her, "Your father is dead." As the apprentice left, Jessamine sat up, her hair dishevelled, as Corvo reached out to her. Corvo remembered how she recoiled at his touch. She changed that day, from care-free but bright young lady, to a politically minded woman with only the Empire in mind. Corvo always thought that maybe she blamed him for her absence during her father's death, and with her own death at the hands of Burrows he would keep wondering.

Corvo got out of bed and put on his trousers, the half-naked Esma slept soundly still as he moved. He grabbed his blade and peeked through the door, a lone, sleeping guard sat at the far end of the corridor, the hallway now in a stark eerie darkness contrasting the brightness of the party. The windows let in slivers of white light, Corvo's silhouette briefly passed over each one as he made his way to the other end of the hall. The guard was overweight, he had a bushy moustache and seemed to be in his forties but he had an exceedingly good head of dark auburn hair. Corvo crept past him into Lydia's room, which was, strangely, unlocked. Attano moved silently, and slipped towards the bed, the _shck _sound of his blade was the only sound as he stood to plunge the blade into Lydia only to be met by a rustling from the other side of the bed. Corvo ducked and went prone, the ankles of the person who had slept next to her were thin and bony, but definitely a man's. All the former Lord Protector could do was watch as the man made his way to the window and scratched his backside, a bit of light showing nary a rat. The guest then turned to the door and exited the room. _'Must be going for a glass of water,' _thought Corvo, he knew he couldn't kill her.

Yet.

Lydia Boyle stirred and turned over, audible dreaming came out as humming to a piano tune. As he waited, Corvo spotted a lone rat, nibbling on the wooden legs of an expensive chair. He possessed it and skittered after the guest who had just opened the door to the gallery. It was still dark, but Corvo could see the man wandering through before he grabbed a bottle of wine that had been sitting out near some vases. The man then turned the lights on, Corvo's eyes naturally squinted as they adjusted to see the stranger. Stood there, drinking to himself was Hiram Burrows. All alone and probably still drunk. Thoughts raced through Corvo's head; should he kill him? He was on his own and unguarded. What if the guard heard? What if Lydia came looking for him? _'What if Esma came looking for him?' _It was risky, but Corvo's primal instincts overwrought any sensible thoughts. Just as Corvo tried to leave possession, he saw Lydia enter the room, the rat he had control over shook violently as he tried to keep his hold over it.

"Come back to bed, dear...it's late," her Ladyship whispered tiredly to Burrows. He glanced at her, gave a half smile and wandered back to the bedroom with her. Corvo couldn't follow them now.

* * *

Samuel Beechworth docked his boat on the riverbed of the Hound Pits, he strained his eyes as he attempted to stay awake. The dawning sun had greeted him and the hagfish as he traipsed towards his destination, a brilliant orange shone across the reeds and moss and he had already spotted Admiral Havelock peering out of his office window, no doubt wondering where their assassin was. A stray dog dashed across the bank as it sensed the humming engine dying down. Samuel scratched the back of his head and spat into the water, suddenly deciding that taking out a bottle of Gristol cider would provide better company than the upper class residents of the pub. As he unscrewed the cap and drank from it, he saw Havelock approach him, the former admiral's face was a mixture of confusion and anger.

"Where's Corvo? He's not dead is he?" Havelock spluttered.

"I don't know, sir. He didn't return in the allotted time." Samuel took another swig of the cider. Havelock paced briefly and gazed to the soon to be azure skies.

"I-I...why didn't you wait?"

Beechworth locked eyes with his supposed superior, "You told me that he has a certain amount of time to complete his missions, so, I waited for as long as I could and headed back once he didn't return. I was only following your orders, sir."

"Because I thought he'd do the job and get out! I didn't mean that you literally wait a couple of hours before returning, that's madness!"

"S-sir..."

Havelock turned his back and said, "Get inside, we're going to have a long conversation about this."

* * *

Callista Curnow had been bathing when she heard the angry shouting come from Admiral Havelock's office; he had been doing most of the shouting, with interjections from Treavor Pendleton and Teague Martin. She wondered what was going on but chose to ignore it for now and tried to get some peace instead. Callista wondered what to teach Emily today, on such a beautiful morning, it would seem a waste to be stuck in the stuffy old tower, perhaps a wander on the sands near the cliff-face would be in order. That would have to wait as she felt a presence outside of the bathroom door.

"Hello?" she called out. The presence left briskly left, along with it's shadow. This had happened a more than its fair share of times now, and Callista began shaking. She stepped out of the bath and dried off, still wary of somebody watching her. She got changed and stepped into the brewery, the large metal barrels sat in their shelves, the coolness of the room hit her immediately as she stepped on to the balcony, the morning was already hot and it wpuld only to get hotter. _'Great. A heatwave coupled with the plague,' _she thought. The past week had been almost unbearably blistering, reports from Loyalist spies suggested that the infection rate had doubled since, with plague carrying rats multiplying and passing it on, usually in the slums. Callista could see tiny boats on the horizon, they seemed free of the quarantine, free from the sheer awfulness of entire families dying in a few days just because something as small and common as a rat happened to be harbingers of disease. It was a sad tale. Moments passed by as she waited for the boats to disappear from her view, never to be seen again, she had always wanted to be a whaler.

"Callista?"

The woman jumped at the voice, she put a hand to her chest and gasped for air, "Piero...don't...don't do that please..."

Piero Joplin held his hands up, "Sorry, I just noticed you were in here and I thought you were upset."

She waved her hand from waist to shoulder, "No, it's fine. Thank you though, it's a kind gesture. I'm just thinking."

"All right," the inventor replied, pushing up his tiny glasses, "As long as you're sure nothing is bothering you...?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

Piero left half-heartedly, he exited the room slowly, hoping that Emily's caretaker would change her mind. She didn't; and she had lied to him, there was something bothering her – it was the thought that Corvo might not survive these missions.

* * *

Corvo had only managed to get a few hours sleep and he still woke up before Esma. Sensing an opportunity, he put on his clothes and coat and searched for his mask. He had no idea where he had left it. As he scanned the area, he remembered that Esma had taken it from him, as he walked around to her side of the bed, he saw it, just under the bed, and just below her hanging arm. Corvo arched his arm around the arm and grabbed the mask, he pulled it out only for a it to thud against the wood on the underside. Esma woke up, her piercing green eyes had finally seen the man she had tried to seduce.

"Corvo Attano..." she mustered, the piercing eyes widening in fear. Corvo covered her mouth before any potential screams alerted the guards.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered to her. Her eyes stayed wide. "If you scream though, I will." He removed his hand from her mouth. Esma stayed quiet. Corvo kept his blade steady.

"W-what are you doing h-here?" she asked, fear blatant on her face.

"I can't tell you," he said flatly.

"You're a criminal! You killed the Empress!" Esma exclaimed, growing louder, Corvo grabbed her by the throat when she said the latter.

"I did...no such thing!" She choked under his palm. He let go suddenly. "N-no. No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you...it's just..."

Her face shot back up off the pillows and she uttered venomously, "Do it again, you cocksucker. Are your wrists as limp as you?"

Corvo was entirely flummoxed. _'What was she doing?'_

"Well," she started, "Show me you aren't a boy!"

He backed off.

"Oh," she kneeled up on the matress, "I see. You really are a little boy and not the man I wanted to fuck last night."

"It's not that..." he began.

"Stop it. You didn't want to fuck me last night and you don't want to fuck me now. Typical."

Corvo was truly baffled.

"What's the matter? Am I not attractive enough for you? Am I not wholesome enough? Unlike that _bitch?_"

Corvo hit her across the face, "NEVER talk about her like that!"

A sudden rapping at the door was followed by a voice, "M'lady? M'lady, is everything all right in there?" Esma sat up, a temporary red mark blemished her otherwise unmarked face.

"Yes dear," she called back, her speaking undeterred by the sudden shock she must have felt. "I'll be downstairs in an hour."

"Yes ma'am." The sound of footsteps dissipated as Corvo and Esma waited for what would happen next.

"Well then," Esma said, the familiar seduction creeping back into play, "Where were we? Oh yes, we were talking about your slut." Corvo's hands tightened, she noticed and teased, "What's the matter? Have you not got the stones anymore? Did she ruin you? She's dead and I'm here, waiting for your rough handling."

"Why do you ask for this? I'd heard idle gossip about you but I thought it was just that, gossip."

Esma de-stringed her corset, "The gossip saying I'm a bad, bad girl? It's true, but no man ever wants it rough. They want to cuddle me and whisper sweet nothings. It bores me. I might be a pretty face, but I don't want to be cradled."

Corvo couldn't help but look as her breasts heaved in her corset, slowly falling out as she untied further. He felt himself getting turned on. She could see what she wanted becoming hard.

"Fuck me."

Corvo walked back over to the bed and pushed her on to her back, he rubbed his hands up and down her thighs and felt the heat come from her, he trickled his fingers up to her underwear and teased at them, grabbing the lacy brim before he began to pull them down gently. Esma bit her lip in anticipation.

"Esma, darling. Are you coming down for breakfast?" called one of her sister's.

The moment was killed by Waverley. Esma sighed and replied, "Yes, I'll be down in a minute." Waverley could be heard tip-tapping away down the corridor. "Shame...I was looking forward to that. You should go now." Corvo let her get up, "I might write you, but I'm a busy woman. Besides, you know where I live, just make sure I know in advance if you want to meet up."

"That's fine by me," Corvo said. Esma smiled at him as she got changed. "How do I know you won't say anything? To Burrows, I mean."

"Trust me Corvo, if I wanted you captured, it would have happened by now." She pointed to a bell on the side of her bed.

Corvo wasn't sure he could trust her.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Esma's rather crazy isn't she? Thank you all so far for following/favouriting/reviewing my story so far. Next chapter we shall see Corvo reminisce about his abduction of Anton Sokolov and his return to the Hound Pits. See you soon!**_


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